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The Cliffs of Lost Dreams
Cassandra Jackson never thought she was anything special, even though she was the daughter of Percy and Annabeth Jackson, two of the most powerful demigods ever known. In fact, she was the only one out of their five children to not inherit insane, godly powers, because "The mortal side of the family must have finally caught up to the gene pool." But, when chaos breaks out in the Pegasi Stables, Cassandra already knows that her boring life--at least compared to her siblings'--will never be the same. I Choke a Three Headed Monster It’s bad enough to be the ‘baby’ of the family. It’s even worse to be the only sibling to not inherit insane, literally god-like powers from her parents. Guess the whole mortal side of the family finally caught up with the gene pool, but of course, I was the one slammed. Seriously, I feel like punching someone--or maybe even the brick wall, despite several bruises and gashes that would likely result--whenever my older brothers and sister brag about being chased by monsters. Yes, they brag. And I swear, if Echo and Nick even dare try to pull another prank on their unlucky little sister again, by using their “Superior Athena Logic” I will chuck the heaviest thing I can find at them, regardless of whether or not it will actually hit. Don’t even get me started on Orion and Adonis, those two can’t even pick up their cup to drink. They have to manipulate the water so it goes straight into their disgusting mouths, in a perfect, straight line. Okay, Cassie, breathe. You’re just a late bloomer. Right. A late bloomer. Who cares if there’s never been one before you? There’s always a first. I take a deep breath--which was probably the first time I’d listened anyone all day.--and rub my hands together until they’re red. “Hey, Cassie,” Adonis says, leaning against the wall beside me. I can already tell by his big, goofy grin that something happened. He looks at me expectantly, waiting for me to ask that one trivial question that I, apparently, never get bored of after the millionth time. “Monster?” “No.” “Kat?” “Yeah....” He scratches his gorgeous blonde locks that apparently make every girl swoon--I wonder what their reaction would be if they found out he only washes it every three days? Tiny dimples fade onto his perfectly tanned cheeks, as he crosses his ‘totally ripped’ arms. That’s the thing that really annoys me. If I simply wasn’t destined to be all magical, couldn’t the God of Genetics just given me good looks so it would at least seem like I was be remotely related to my siblings. All of their hair is perfectly straight and glossy, and colored golden, chestnut, or ebony. Even though they’re all only teenagers, their muscle tone certainly hasn’t gotten the hint. Meanwhile, I’m stuck here with the unmanageable kind of curly hair that’s so blonde it’s almost white, and light blue eyes that are so disorienting, people usually have to look away. It’s a pity, too. Maybe, if I had their looks, I could have posed as a Daughter of Aphrodite and gotten into that dumb camp. Give it three more weeks, I think as he looks up, somewhat in a trance. The Jackson kids are famous for never staying with the same person for more than a month. “Kat?” Echo squeals from behind us. I jump back a few feet, making a quick ninja-like motion with my arms, but based on the raised eyebrows, and humorous sparks in Echo’s and Adonis’s eyes, I must have acted as if someone had thrown a tiny button on the ground, that, if stepped on, would send me straight to the Fields of Torture. “What?” I ask, causing them to go into near hysterics. “You should have seen your face!” Echo laughed, her shiny black ponytail shaking with her as she bounced. “You looked like a pufferfish!” Adonis said. I wanted to say something along the lines of And of course you’d know that, but decide against it, given the fact that I’d already pulled that one on him way too many times. “So,” Echo says, slowly regaining what little she already has of control. “Kat?” Katarina D'amato is a Daughter of Aphrodite. She’s so manipulative--just because I don’t have powers doesn’t mean I can’t recognize charmspeak--and too... I don’t know. What’s that word to describe girls who are too absorbed in fashion magazines and matchmaking and all that? Well, she’s too that, I suppose. Too stereotypical, too predictable, too bland. I’m willing to bet all of my allowance that Adonis will break up with her by saying those words, exactly. Instead of staying to listen, I slip behind them, and out the back door. Despite the fact that my parents, the famous Perseus Jackson and Annabeth Chase, saved the world more than once, we don’t get to live in a mansion. Instead, we live in a normal, suburban house that has just enough room for two parents and five kids. Until you get to the backyard, that is. You’d think that if someone had forty acres of land, they’d use up most of it with a huge, five story, totally decked out house, an Olympic size swimming pool, a tennis court, and maybe a football field, but not my parents. Nope. We have a Pegasus stable. Yes, you did hear me right. I’ve spent years trying to befriend them, but for some reason, they prefer Adonis and Orion, the two water heads, over me. There’s only one who won’t try to kick me once I get within a five foot radius: Blackjack. He’s one of the oldest ones in the stable, but tell him that, and he will kick you. I have to hand it to the him though, even though he is past his prime, Blackjack certainly doesn’t look like it. He still has the same sleek black coat that he had in all the pictures Dad showed us from the Titan War. His wings are still beautifully full and lush, without a single grey streak. “Hi, Blackjack,” I say, walking to the edge of his stall. “You want an apple?” He comes over and takes it out of my hand, then goes back without a second glance. “Fine, have it your way,” I say, smiling. I think I will, little boss. I’m about to talk back to him, but stop myself first. I heard him. And that, of course, is when the stables are set on fire. All of the pegasi start erupting in a newfound state of panic, clamping their hooves on the straw and neighing. Blackjack tries to pick his own lock. Little boss, could you get that for me? I want to sit there and marvel at the fact that I can hear him--okay, so not actually hear him, but you know what I mean. The stall door opens with a big swing, and he bolts out as if there’s a huge boa constrictor inside. No. The snake is actually outside. And it’s not just a snake; imagine a lion with a goat head sticking out from his back, and a serpent for a tail. He has claws the size of butcher knives, and a curly mane that’s so tangled, it almost looks worse than my own. Meaty crumbs hang from the lion’s teeth and along the goat’s beard, and while the serpent has nothing stuck between his scales, his eyes look like the could shoot daggers at me, and they probably would have, if Blackjack didn’t pick me up. No time for gaping, Little Boss. His back feels just the way it looks, smoothed and cu shioned, even for a pegasus. I tangle my hands in his mane, just the way I see Echo do it with Butterscotch, They’re like a large group of waving ribbons, but before I have time to adjust, he’s already jerking up, and even though I can’t see it, I can feel the heated glare between him and the lion/goat/serpent/dragon baby. Seriously, the air around me seems to heat by about ten degrees. I’m pretty sure that monster has fire breath. A huge stream of fire is blown right toward me, but a giant cloud of white, feathered wings intercepts it. The pegasi bat their wings with such a huge force, that most of it actually goes back to the monster, who only bellows in annoyance. Seems like he’s fireproof too. How is this even remotely fair? A few pegasi go down with flaming bodies, but then I see Dad, standing at the patio, open mouthed, though I can’t tell why. I’d like to think that it was because I’m riding Blackjack, or maybe that a monster finally noticed me, but it’s probably because of the huge amount of injured pegasi. What can I say? He’s a natural equestrian. Already, a huge wave is coming towards the fallen horses, and the flames licking at their heels and wings are immediately doused. Then he turns toward the thing, and throws a ton of water at him. No, seriously, two thousand pounds of pure liquid slammed right into two of his three face. How I suddenly know that? Don’t even ask. After a few seconds of literal steaming, the monster shakes himself, and tiny droplets of water are sprayed everywhere, like a miniature rainstorm. Apparently, Blackjack’s wings aren’t waterproof. We plummet into the ground fast, before Dad can even see what’s going on, and hit a puddle of water with a heavy thud. Blackjack lets out a horse-like groan, if such a thing exists, and gets back up as if it never happened. Meanwhile, my left knee feels like five hundred pounds were just thrown on top of it, which technically did happen. I limp back on him, and Blackjack shoots up in a terrorizing spiral that suddenly makes the outside seem like a pleasant change of scenery to my recently consumed peanut butter sandwich. Nauseous fumes of smoke only add to the effect, and as we get higher up, I really do feel like tossing a few cookies. Suddenly, Blackjack dives down to the monster in a death spiral. “Are you crazy?” I scream, causing it to jerk his heads toward us. He opens his huge, gaping mouth. Wow, I guess the whole screaming thing really did us in. First, a deep inhale, which almost sucks us in his cave-sized mouth anyway. Really, the fire was quite unnecessary. I prepare for the worst, but then, a blast of water splashes the monster and goes straight down his throat--you can tell because of the resulting constipated expression he displayed. I want to thank Dad, but I'm not about to risk having fire blown at me again. Get out the club. Blackjack says simply, in a deep voice that does not sound like him. At all. It sounds more like the rumbling of boulders as the tumble down a huge mountainside. Really loud, really deep, and very, very, sinister. “What club?” Suddenly, my pocket begins to feel really heavy, and I pull out an enormous club made completely out of lead. “Oh, that club.” Despite its size, the weapon is really light, so I start flipping it around in my hands, quite happy with it, until Blackjack launches into another suicidal attack at the monster. We’re flying through pillars of fire, and yet somehow, both of us seem to be unaffected. Loose tendrils try to reach me, forming shapes that look like lost hands and some kind of trumpet, but wither before they get too close. Woven in it is a strange scene of a donkey followed by a trail of fire to a group of jagged rocks, like the ones you see at the bottom of a cliff. But before I can make any sense of it, we’re at the monster’s mouth. Really, I can touch one of his incisors. There are so many horrific rows or teeth, that it made me dizzy just looking at them. The monster’s heads lunge, so I do the last thing I could think of to keep Blackjack and me from becoming a monster sandwich; I thrust my club into his mouth. Then, we’re knocked out of the sky by a vicious tidal wave. I’m almost shocked to see anything that isn’t orange, but I can make out the faint shape of Dad’s face, his dark hair, brilliant, sea green eyes, full of concern, and California-tanned skin. I can hear a loud choking from the monster. Of course. His fire breath must have melted the lead. “Clever,” I tell Blackjack, coughing softly, to which he whinnies happily. “Cassandra Elizabeth Jackson, what in the world were you thinking?” Dad always calls me by my full name when he’s upset. “Wasn’t me,” I say with a strained voice. “Blackjack. I think it was Blackjack.” Suddenly, Mom seems to materialize from behind him. “Percy, I think it’s time.” “No, not yet. She’s only thirteen.” “And the Chimera almost killed her.” “Wise girl....” “The Chimera, Percy. If Blackjack hadn’t remembered, Cassie would have been toast.” She looks at him with dangerous grey eyes, as if daring him to object. Suddenly everything starts to go fuzzy. “Cassie!” Mom and Dad both say simultaneously, but before their voices fade in the background of fire fighting water, like some sort of ancient clash that has something to do with me. I can see the image so vividly, fire wrapping around the water only to be extinguished, but everytime that happens, the fire only reforms, and tries again. I’ve heard about my siblings getting visions before, could I be having one? My face starts to hurt and my arms feel like they are being engulfed in flames. Wait, scratch that, my entire body is totally submerged in a sea of flames. And then, everything goes black. ---- Category:Lillith Robbins Category:Bunny1212kl Category:Chapter Page Category:The Rings of Fire Category:The Cassandra Jackson Series